This historic book may have numerous typos, missing text or index. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. 1920. Not illustrated. Excerpt: ... CHAPTER XXII Neither Julie's letters, her tears, her anger, her abasement, could either discover the object of M. de Guibert's journey, nor delay his departure. Since his meetings with her were almost always stormy, he avoided seeing her save in company, and though he strove to make peace with her by correspondence, he was maladroit enough to write to her of a visit Madame de Montsauge had paid him as he was sealing a letter for Julie : 'It is not love, nor jealousy, that caused her to make these reproaches; but she had counted on my friendship; that she had regarded as the repose of her heart and the happiness of the rest of her life. . . . She was very tender, very interesting, though there was nothing, either on her side or mine, of our ancient sentiments. She was full of reason, of philosophy, of wit--I would that you could have heard her.' The self-confidence, the naiive vanity of letters such as these, wounded at once the delicacy and the pride of Julie. She responded in tones of bitter haughtiness. 'You make a merit of all that you do not do for Madame de Montsauge. Mon ami, there is this difference between us--she loved you and I love you-- after that, talk no more of sacrifices !' But she could not long allow herself these reproofs. She learnt from the gossip of the salons that M. de Guibert had left Paris without either farewells or warnings. Julie, returning in despair to her little salon, wrote to the runaway, sending the letter in charge of the porter at the rue Taranne:-- 'You wish to make a secret of your voyage. If you are not ashamed of the object of it, why do you fear to tell it to me? And if this journey must offend me, why do you take it? Never have you had with me the abandon of confidence. ... I know not where you are. ... I am ingorant of...
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